


the swordfish & the cat

by infinitefuriosa (alternategalaxy)



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternategalaxy/pseuds/infinitefuriosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Real Folk Blues. The Bebop keeps flying. It's slow and it's painful and they must mourn, but no matter what they do there will always be tomorrow. A collection of drabbles set in the series aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the swordfish & the cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YoukaiYume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoukaiYume/gifts).



Spike leaves.

Faye's arm drops to her side, gun so heavy in her hand she can't unfold her fingers to drop it.

Thirty seconds later Jet heaves himself into the corridor, crutch clattering on the metal floor, an obvious panic on his face. With all the shit that's gone down there are _guns_ being fired on the _Bebop_ , and something must be wrong. The smell of gunpowder stings her nose, and there's the faint echoing ting of metal ringing off metal.

“Faye, what the hell is going on –?” Jet demands, clomping awkwardly towards her.

She ignores him, glaring at the darkened doorway Spike passed through. “ _Lunkhead,_ ” is an insult whispered so fiercely she can feel Jet hesitate beside her.

“Faye...”

“If he _dies_ out there,” she snarls, “I'll kill him myself.”

 

And he does.

 

Later, she is curled on the couch when Jet walks in with a cup of noodles, steaming and fresh.

“This is all there is,” he says.

Faye curls a little tighter, doesn't look at him. “I'm not hungry.”

It's easier to stare at the holo-tv, muted but screening the homeshopping channel. It doesn't change a thing, Jet putting it down on the table in front of her as though she'd said 'thanks' instead. Faye does her best to ignore it.

Something black and suffocating crawls past her heart. The cup sits between them for a long minute, far longer than it rightfully could have, if Ed or Ein or _Spike_ were here.

Jett lingers. He stands there, one hand on his hip, and while she doesn't look at him, Faye can tell from his posture that he wants to say something, and can't decide if he should or not. The tv screen flickers, a static blip as they pass into the shadow of Mars. They've been coasting on an orbit for three days, out of the Syndicate's reach, but on standby in case something changes. In case someone comes back from the dead.

She desperately wants to go to Earth, but … there isn't anything there for her, either.

A sigh from Jet breaks the train of thought, and despite herself Faye looks to him. He side-steps the low slung table and drops onto the couch, right next to her, and far more inside her personal space than Faye allows _anyone_. Before she can say anything he's got the noodles in hand, and settles back against the couch with every obvious intent of staying right there.

 _Too close_ , part of her cries.

He digs in at the noodles, stirring them around the cup and creating a fresh waft of steam. “What is this, shopping?”

Still struggling to catch up (she wants to _run_ ) Faye looks to the screen, the homemaker and the host both enamoured by how smoothly paint is applied to the wall of the house. “Yeah,” she says softly. She doesn't admit that it's oddly soothing to watch something work exactly as intended, glossy and new. Perfectly designed for a small, insignificant job, but _so good_ at it, the job itself becomes valuable.

“Alright,” Jet says, around a mouthful of noodles. “But we're changing the channel in half an hour. _Big Shot_ is on then.”

“You know it's called _Hot Shot_ now.”

He scoffs. “They can call it what they want, it's all the same thing.”

Her urge to flee breaks, and Faye smiles softly, digging for a cigarette. “I guess it is,” she says, and settles back down. She'll stay, for a little while.

 

A day passes.

Faye does not know how she spends it, only that there are some parts of the ship she can't bear to go near. By nightfall (according to the time on Mars anyway) she's in the common room again, the tv on mute, alone in her thoughts until Jet arrives, a cup of noodles set in front of her just like yesterday.

She's still not hungry but she knows that he'll eat it if she doesn't, and it's the threat of stolen food that has her reaching out. “Jeeze,” Faye says, stabbing at the undercurrent of satisfaction in her friend. “Do you buy any other flavour?”

Jet folds his arms, levels one of those _Looks_ at her. “You want more than that, you'll have to start earning your keep again.”

Faye stares back, realising for the first time that _this_ is Jet's solution. One foot in front of another, keep going. Keep doing the same thing, because it wasn't _bounty hunting_ that killed Spike. No, that was what kept him alive for so long.

The question if she can do the same is too big to answer, right then, and Faye drops her gaze to the tv, processing this new realisation. Jet's boots scuff the floor as he turns to leave.

“We should go to Earth,” she blurts, quite by accident. There's nothing for them on Mars anyway, except some ghosts to chase.

“Earth?” Jet doesn't try to hide his surprise. It's pretty left-field, she knows.

“Yeah. Maybe see what Ed's up to.”

“I guess we could...” Jet says, and counts on his fingers to calculate fuel rationing. Faye leaves him to it, curling noodles around her chopsticks, until he nods in satisfaction. “Alright, we'll do it. You know, I hear the lobster on earth is something _else_.”

Faye snorts, deflecting the gesture. “Your cooking is terrible, old man.”

Jet scowls, jabs a finger at her. “Don't complain, freeloader!”

He leaves after that, muttering and grousing about ungrateful freeloaders, and women who don't pay, and for a moment it's so heartachingly normal that Faye doesn't even notice she's demolished the entire cup of noodles.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is what happens when you watch Bebop for the first time in eight years, and spend three days yelling with your friend about it. Big shoutout to youkaiyume for being an excellent inspirational partner, without 'em this would sit in chatlogs and fragments. I honestly couldn't have done it without her! 
> 
> This series will have 5 drabbles, pretty much faye and jet-centric. It is not a shipping fic, but if that's your jam you're welcome to read between the lines.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr under infinitefuriosa.


End file.
